Twenty Years of Rain
by Measured
Summary: Three days of rain across the life of Ted and Tracy. Not finale compliant. Ted/Tracy.


Title: Twenty Years Of Rain  
>Series: How I Met Your Mother<br>Character/pairing: Ted/Tracy, mentioned Barney/Robin and Marshall/Lily  
>Rating: PG-13<br>Summary: Three days of rain across the life of Ted and Tracy. Not finale compliant.  
>Author's note: A treat for Unforgotten in TrickorTreatex. Title comes from a Regina Spektor song.<p>

**.**

The streetlights had come out early in the rainy autumn. She'd worn a cloudy-blue dress, but hadn't expected the skies to match. Her brand-new shoes were soaked through after stepping through a few puddles. The restaurant had been closed by some accident, everything had gone wrong, but she'd never been happier.

His dark green fisherman's knit sweater was damp at the edges, but they stayed together under that umbrella even if they both got wet.

He'd already told her so many stories of his friends and all the strange and funny things he'd gotten into over the years, even though they'd only been dating a month, she felt like she knew this motley group, like she could know them for much longer.

Wrapped in those dark clouds, the edge of rain like a blanket, she moved a little closer to him.

"Sometimes, I sing along to Singin' In The Rain as I walk home. Sometimes I think about climbing up on a lamppost and not caring who sees me."

"You too?" Ted said, his voice rising in eagerness. He turned, rain-wet hair, water sloughing over their shared umbrella.

"Have you ever acted out the entire Sleepless in Seattle over an Architecture model?"

"Not yet," she said.

"And ever see Jerry Maguire?" Ted said.

"It's the _best _ movie-_You had me at hello _ is one of the best lines I've ever heard in any movie," she said.

He paused a moment, taking it all in. She couldn't help but laugh as he stumbled on the next words.

"I know it's only the fifth date, but what's your opinion on Star Wars?"

"You haven't seen my Leia costume? There's pictures online," she said.

"Costume?" Ted said. She laughed, as she knew his mind was going _regular Leia or Slave Leia?_

"Tracy Mcconnell you are amazing," Ted said.

"You're pretty amazing yourself," Ted Mosby.

He gripped the lamp post and pulled himself up into the pouring rain.

"Want to be fools together?" Ted said.

"Gladly," she said, and took his hand.

**.**

It rained on their wedding day, leaving the bar windows steamed over with condensation. She wistfully looked out the window. A glint of a yellow umbrella walking outside. He shook off the droplets. He kissed the handle every morning, and kept it with him when he worked. His good luck charm, the piece that had led both of them together.

He thought she didn't see, but she did.

The bar was crowded, his friends were ordering drinks. Less than they used to, the smell was rife with nostalgia for them. Life had moved on, but sometimes, they could take it back to their youth when everything seemed in their grasp.

Places she'd only heard of in Ted's stories.

She was already thinking of how she'd be telling it to her children. Tucking them in at night. _Kids, the first time I saw your father, he came up under the yellow umbrella. He'd been left at the altar, I'd lost my first love. But don't ever let life make you think you can't have second chances, or that you shouldn't take that first step._

Call it sappy-Barney probably would. Robin would likely join him. Since they'd discovered couples therapy/laser tag mix up, they'd mended their marriage before the divorce was final.

Even that was a story in the making. Lily had failed as an artist, only to find her work. Marshall had given up his chances, only to find them again. Barney and Robin had failed so many times, even divorced and found their way back to each other.

Ted launched into a story at any possibility, but he didn't tell them alone any longer.

**.**

On rainy days the aching in her bones got worse. Her hair hadn't grown back, but she had a wide variety of hats and wigs. There were many pictures added of them in the already bursting at the seams family photo albums.

Ted took even more photos now, like each one might be their last together.

He brought in tea on a vintage lap tray. He'd scoured the antiques place of the cities to find one with yellow painted flowers, rain and umbrellas.

"Thirty days without cancer," she said.

He took her hand and kissed it. "Here's to thirty more-thirty thousand more."

His voice quavered, but he believed, and she believed.

"Neon pink really is your color," Ted said. He straightened the ridiculous wig.

"One of these days, I'll sing in them. Just you watch," she said.

"I'll be in the front row, telling everyone I meet _that's my wife_," Ted said.

"And I'll stop the song to tell about the first time I saw you, and the first time we met," she said.

"I must be rubbing off on you," he said.

"I can only hope," she said.

She'd been teaching herself how to play bridge for the days when chemo had left her so weak. She wanted so badly to one day be gray-haired and playing bridge with Marshall and Lily on the front porch. Such mundane, beautiful things. Sixty days without cancer. Sixty years without cancer.

Life had taught her that not everyone got to have this. But if he could lift his downward spiral, if she could survive loss, then she could fight for her life. She kept on planning her life with him. One day she would run out of days, but until then she would just keep bargaining and enjoying every minute.


End file.
